46: A Deserter (IV)
"Sin?" The Lion El'Jonson's voice turned stern again. "That's all? You only have this one enemy?"
"Yes."
The Lion El'Jonson laughed, making no attempt to hide his disdain. His laughter seemed devoid of anger, but his eyes were practically blazing. "You really intend to do this, Konrad Curze Curze?"
Curze stared at him, suppressing a barbed answer from his mind. It wasn't easy to do that, especially in front of Lion Aljonsen.
Curze slowly exhaled a breath of stale air, letting his thoughts return to the way he was most comfortable with now. His brother was provoking him, stirring up some kind of primal instinct hidden within him.
He knew what the Lion El'Jonson intended, but he wouldn't let him succeed. He had to approach the problem with reason, rather than letting his obsessive instincts turn everything into a bloody mess.
"That depends on your attitude, Lion," Curze said softly. "I understand the evil of necessity, I acknowledge its necessity, but I won't stand by and watch someone use it as a pretext to do other things."
"Are you accusing my legion of abusing its power for personal gain?"
"I never said that, and I believe the First Legion will not let their glory fade."
Curze remained calm, struggling to suppress his emotions so he could explain to Lion. His calmness contained no trace of retreat, only courage and reason.
Lion stared at him, his animalistic instincts taking over at that moment. Relying on this instinct, he was able to see what Curze was hiding beneath his calm, and he remained seated, listening to the latter's words.
"I'm not here to criticize you. I won't be so condescending or arrogant as to spout nonsense at you brave people. I admire those who dare to stain their hands with blood for the world, but I've come here nonetheless."
Curze slowly reached into his coat. The beast sitting with him on the sofa stared at him, watching the movement of his hand, its muscles tensing.
Half a second later, Curze showed the mark to the Lion El'Jonson.
"And I didn't come to visit you just because of my own will." He opened his palm, feeling the burning heat of the mark, and slowly shook his head.
"This is an order from Terra, Lion. It has nothing to do with whether I understand you or not. If I had come alone with my legion, you could have humiliated me for my shortsightedness. You could have laid out your past glories before me and refuted my arrogant actions with facts. But the problem is, I did not come alone."
He gripped the mark tightly, his eyes so sharp they seemed to pierce a hole in the Lion El'Jonson's face. "This is Terra's instruction, and also Father's decree."
The Lion El'Jonson was breathing heavily.
His face was expressionless, yet he gave the impression of an impending eruption, like a volcano gathering strength to make the earth tremble.
Curze stared at him, and for a moment he almost thought Lion would explode and attack him—but he didn't.
Lion Aljonson slowly loosened his clenched fist and put his knight's coat back on.
"So you understand me." He looked at Curze calmly, his gaze scrutinizing. "Then why did you come to me, Konrad Curze? If you had understood the necessity of these things from the beginning."
"Does it matter who comes?" Curze retorted.
"Yes," Lion said without hesitation.
"I can accept the misunderstandings of the ignorant, I can endure the fearful gazes of the world, I can even ignore the whispers of my brothers—but all of this is predicated on their lack of understanding. You understand, Konrad Curze. So, why did you come?"
A sense of guilt rose in Curze's heart, but he didn't let it get the better of him. He withdrew the mark, held it in his palm, and used its heat to remind himself of its meaning.
He had only met Lion Aljonsen a short time ago, and the atmosphere between them could hardly be described as instant rapport, but "understanding" itself doesn't need to be understood.
His understanding with the Lion El'Jonson was even more special; it was a rare peace between two beasts who had taken human form.
Yes, peaceful.
How do wild beasts usually communicate? With claws and teeth, with blood. How do they communicate now?
"Because your legion did something wrong," Konrad Curze Curze said slowly and clearly. "It was a very small matter, almost negligible to you. I have reason to believe it probably wasn't even reported to you, and you never saw any mention of it on that desk."
The Lion El'Jonson's cheek twitched.
"Then," he whispered dangerously. "Then, Konrad Curze Curze."
Are you willing to listen now?
The Lion El'Jonson snorted coldly, "What do you take me for? An arrogant tyrant, or a paranoid man who won't listen to any advice? I'm neither. Continue."
Sergeant Trinfu Rutton.
Curze spoke slowly, his voice devoid of much emotion, rational and restrained.
"He once belonged to the 439th Armored Division. His father, Tulyus Raton, served in the 799th Infantry Regiment and had long since died in service. So we can say that he came from a glorious military family."
"Sergeant Trinfu was a tough man with a strong sense of honor. His subordinates and colleagues all spoke highly of him; without a doubt, he was one of the most admirable soldiers among millions of the Imperial Army. Then, in a battle alongside the First Legion, he died."
"His body was brought back to the lines as night was about to fall. The First Legion killed him for attempting to escape. But just hours earlier, he had been lured away from the lines by several Dark Angels."
The Lion El'Jonson frowned, a deep frown. His expression finally softened a little.
Lion El-Jonson had absolute control over his legion, a control that stemmed from many aspects, but ultimately it could be summed up in one word: understanding.
The Lion El'Jonson knows every soldier in his army as well as he knows the ancient weapon, the sword, by heart.
The First Legion's web is intricate and complex, layered and dense like a spiderweb. And Lion El-Jonson is at the core of this web; he can sense anyone stepping on any of its threads.
Therefore, he quickly offered an explanation.
"They must have had a reason for doing this," the Lion El'Jonson said slowly. "My soldiers don't kill without cause. If Sergeant Trinfu was killed, and by the Dark Angels himself, then I can certainly give you a reason."
"I don't care about that reason." Curze forced himself to smile, a smile so exaggerated it made him look terrifying.
In that instant, he was a being that resembled a human, yet was not quite human. The change in him was so drastic that it was almost unbearable to witness.
"I only care about one thing, Lion. I have no problem with your legions killing a few for the sake of many. But why did you label him a deserter? You took his life, and you took away the last thing he had left."
"Your soldiers returned his body to his men and brothers, letting everyone see the muzzle of Astartes- sized Boltgun on his corpse. Whatever the truth, you have utterly destroyed his reputation, Lion. Wasn't his life enough?"
Wasn't his life enough?
This question, accompanied by Konrad Curze Curze's sharp voice, echoed again and again in Lion Aljonson's mind. Like wine fermenting, it gradually became bitter, dull, and like a steel wind that swept away flesh.
I will give you an explanation.
The Lion El'Jonson avoided a gaze, his brow furrowed as he looked away. He raised his right hand and repeated what he was saying.
"I will give Sergeant Trinfu an explanation--"
Curze interrupted him rudely, for the first time in his life.
"--No, Sergeant Trinfu needs no explanation, he's dead. The dead don't speak, Lion. And there's only one thing I really want to remind you of. If, on that day, you could turn a man loyal to the Imperium into a traitor and a reviled coward for the sake of your duty, then what about in the future?"
The Night Lords let out a sharp, cold laugh, completely unlike his previous self. His rationality, gentleness, and persuasion had all vanished, leaving only the most primal and pure malice.
The Lion El'Jonson tightened his skin, trying to appear ruthless, to remain ruthless. He raised his head, attempting to resist his brother's sneer with his usual arrogance, but the words failed him.
Lion Aljonson couldn't utter a word; he remained head tilted back, utterly unable to mount any effective resistance. A surge of anger jolted him awake—resist? What was he supposed to be resisting?
He recalled the mark, the decree of Terra, and a bitter feeling welled up in his heart, prompting him to begin to think: So that's how it is, Father, is this what you wanted to remind me of? But what I did was clearly exactly that.
No, that's not right.
He didn't ask me to do that; he absolutely didn't ask me to erase someone else's honor. He wouldn't do that.
The Lion El'Jonson, with its extraordinary self-control, suppressed its instinctive roar, causing the wild beast in the forest to retreat back into the woods.
The blond knight pondered calmly and with a sense of shame, and after several minutes of silence, he finally spoke again.
This time, he asked the same question.
"How many people?" the Lion El'Jonson asked gravely. "How many more have suffered this injustice?"
"Do you want to clear their names?" Curze asked in a strangely soft voice.
The Lion El'Jonson closed its eyes, gritted its teeth, and uttered a sentence with difficulty, bit by bit.
"I just want to erase this shame," he said in a low voice.
Karyl's armor is complete. The post is in the book review section, high-resolution images are in the book club, and you can also find it in the bonus chapter. Thank you, Teacher Yue Shang!